


an overflowing bottle (of her own creation)

by riverdalenerdlol



Series: Riverdalenerdlol's canon fangirling [4]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: 4x11 drabble, Alice is finally a good parent, Anger, Apologies, F/M, I refuse to spell Brett with one t because he freaking SUCKS okay, Implied Smut, It's quite emotional, Jughead comforts Betty at the end, Lots of Crying, Mentions of Sex, Resentment, Yale - Freeform, a healthy dose of fluff, covers most of the angst, destroying of a gravestone, mentions of the Black Hood, rejection from college, specifically because of parentage, the title comes from Betty bottling up everything happening to her and then it finally exploding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22480714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverdalenerdlol/pseuds/riverdalenerdlol
Summary: He didn’t seem to believe she was proud of him, but she really was. She let him know just how proud of him she was by the way she kissed him and raked her nails down his back and thrust her own hips against him. And when she had to leave, she assured him one more time that she really meant it with a kiss to his forehead.And then she ran into Brett, who had - surprise, surprise - also gotten into Yale. She bet he bought his way in with his gelled hair, smug smile, and pretentious demeanor. And then she was angry again as she left Stonewall to go back to Riverdale. She only wished Jughead was beside her the entire trip home on the train.OR - a 4x11 drabble that Hollie and I cried over7th BFFAs - NOMINEE UNDER THE RADAR
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Series: Riverdalenerdlol's canon fangirling [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1519778
Comments: 11
Kudos: 88
Collections: 7th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	an overflowing bottle (of her own creation)

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by none other than the wonderful @lilireinhartsboobs/hollsbolls
> 
> And in Hollie's words: "A tear jerker it is. My face is covered in them. How dare u."

It was after they had sex in his dorm room for the umpteenth time that he told her that he got into Yale. Sex was difficult in a top bunk of a twin bed at first, but they had learned the spatial limits of his bed like no one else could. What was even more difficult was for her to be happy for him when she was only sad that she wouldn’t be joining him. She was always proud of Jughead - for getting into Stonewall, for his Baxter Brothers book deal, and now for him to be getting into Yale - she really was proud of him. She just wished she could join him at Yale. She wanted to go to college with him, celebrate his first book deal with him, run away from Riverdale and just start their own life together away from the murder capital of the world. Any time she thought of the future, she thought of him with her, doing whatever it was that normal couples did away from their teenage traumas. 

He didn’t seem to believe she was proud of him, but she really was. She let him know just how proud of him she was by the way she kissed him and raked her nails down his back and thrust her own hips against him. And when she had to leave, she assured him one more time that she really meant it with a kiss to his forehead. 

And then she ran into Brett, who had - surprise, surprise - also gotten into Yale. She bet he bought his way in with his gelled hair, smug smile, and pretentious demeanor. And then she was angry again as she left Stonewall to go back to Riverdale. She only wished Jughead was beside her the entire trip home on the train. 

**\---**

Betty had asked Charles to dig up information on Brett, and dig he did. She was furious as she rode back to Stonewall (seriously, maybe she should just transfer) on the train, ready to confront Brett about how fake he was. And she did, barging into her boyfriend’s room where he and their worst enemy were studying quietly. She accused him of everything she wanted to accuse him of, and then he dropped a bombshell. 

Jughead was writing his Baxter Brothers book based on her worst nightmare. 

The part that hurt the most was that he knew how much she tried to move past said nightmare. She would wake up shaking and crying the summer between sophomore and junior year, but he was usually right next to her to make sure she was okay. She had taken adderall to numb the pain but nothing hurt worse than almost being killed by your father in your childhood home. That one thing had already caused her so much pain, and now it felt like he was twisting the knife. 

She scoffed in annoyance, turned, and ran down the hall. Tears threatened to spill, but she wiped them away as soon as she could sense them. A few moments later, Jughead caught up to her, pleading for them to just talk about it, but Betty didn’t respond. He took the liberty to direct him into one of the Stonewall classrooms, shutting and locking the door behind them. Betty had already pulled herself away from him, standing across the room from him and glaring at him. 

She hated when they fought, but this time it felt like it was needed for her to take a few stabs at him. He was using her life to write a Baxter Brother’s novel and he didn’t tell her. She could tell that he didn’t want to do that to her, but it still hurt that he hadn’t told her before then. He hadn’t told her about Yale, the secret society bullshit, and now this. One of the most hurtful things that came out of the entire argument was how he thought that she believed he didn’t deserve to go to Yale. It wasn’t that at all, but she was so frustrated with him that she couldn’t even comprehend explaining herself to him. He was supposed to be explaining himself to her. 

They both walked away angry and Betty took the train home by herself again, simmering and furious. 

She ended up crying in the bathroom on the train for the last part of the ride home. 

**\---**

Betty didn’t think her day could get any worse when she got back home. Her mother was out of the house, so she started studying to try and put her built up energy to use. She had finished her homework and was working on studying for the quiz show finals when Charles came in. She hadn’t been expecting him, but she knew she had asked him to dig up information on why she didn’t get into Yale, too. He came in and announced that he had the information. Again, she thought her day couldn’t get worse. She was a bit sarcastic about it at first, thinking it was something reasonable - her essay, her SATs, something like that. What she wasn’t expecting was that it was about her father… again. 

They didn’t want the daughter of the Black Hood at their school. They claimed, according to Charles, that they didn’t want anyone to figure out her parentage and start drama, but she knew better. They didn’t want the daughter of a notorious serial killer at their Ivy League institution. Her father did horrible things, and who was to say that she wasn’t also capable of those things. 

That inner battle she had with herself had suddenly come back to the surface after months and months of remission. She had been fighting it and fighting it ever since she had almost died in her own home at the hand of her father. After time and time again of Jughead assuring her that they weren’t their parents, that she was a good person that terrible things had happened to, Yale had reopened that wound. 

She was furious for the second, no third, time that day. She knew she couldn’t take it out on Charles - he was the messenger, and she had asked him to figure out why she hadn’t been accepted. Instead, she got up violently, almost scaring her half-brother, and walked out the door after grabbing her jacket. 

Betty knew where she was going as she buttoned up her jacket and crammed her hands into her leather gloves, but she made a detour before she left. She went in the garage and grabbed her dad’s old sledge hammer, figuring it was the best tool to use in this situation. She jumped in her mom’s old station wagon, throwing the sledge hammer in the backseat and turning over the engine. 

**\---**

In the five minute drive that it took to get to the Riverdale Cemetery, the sun had started to set when Betty parked the car. She watched over the small town as she waited for the dark to set in. It didn’t feel right to confront her father’s corpse during one of Riverdale’s beautiful sunsets. He didn’t deserve anything beautiful, even if he was dead. He deserved the cold, dark night and his six-foot grave and the graffiti and trash around his headstone. Betty continued to sit in the driver’s seat, just simmering in all of the anger she’d accumulated over the week. From Brett. From his weak attempts at intimidating her. Jughead not telling her things. Jughead writing about her father for his book. Yale not accepting her for who she was, her traumatic experiences and all. 

When the town finally felt dead, Betty got out of the station wagon and grabbed her father’s sledge hammer. She marched over to the far corner of the cemetery where the town had insisted she bury her father. Out of sight, out of mind, right? At the time, she had believed that her father deserved a proper funeral. Only ten people showed up, and she knew that they were only there for her. They weren’t there to mourn her father, they had all come to comfort her. Most at school had turned a blind eye to her father’s death, but those that didn’t insisted it was for the best that the Black Hood was dead, and others were glad he had kicked the bucket. Betty had once mourned the loss of her father, but now she was nothing but resentful of him. 

She saw the trail of trash coming from the single grave, no less than fifty feet away from the rest of Riverdale’s dead citizens. Maybe when she was done, she’d find a dumpster full of horse shit and have it overturned on his grave. Maybe she’d feel better then. 

Betty stopped when she was standing in front of his grave. She just stood there for a while, hating him and everything he’d done. He was in his grave and he was still ruining her life. After he’d been arrested, people Betty had made small talk with when her friends weren’t around ignored her. They knew the truth. The only people that could stand to be around her were Jughead, Archie, Veronica, Cheryl (sometimes), and few others that didn’t think worse of her. Harold Cooper had caused her so much pain and irreversible trauma. 

Betty let him know how much pain he was causing her, even while he was rotting in his grave. He had screwed with her past and present, but now he was fucking with her future. She thought she could have been safe from him after he was gone, but she was angry that wasn’t the case. She was disgusted, just standing in front of his headstone. Only then did she allow herself to get even slightly emotional. She usually just bottled it all up and waited to see Jughead so that she could let it all out in private with him while he held her close. She felt a few stray tears running from her eyes and she didn’t even try to stop them as she berated her father for everything he’d done. 

Then she picked up her sledge hammer and swung it down forcefully, breaking off the corner. It felt good, even through the tears and anger. So she hit it again. And again, and again. She wanted to turn it into a pile of pebbles. Soon, she was screaming and growling her resentments as she swung and swung and swung, tears streaming down her face. 

Her mother showed up at some point, grabbing her and taking the sledge hammer from her hand. 

Betty truly broke down then. Her body slacked as she collapsed into her mom’s arms. Her body shook with sobs and embarrassing cries. Her mother said a few things to her, cupping her face in her hands to force her to look at her. Betty became even more emotional, as her mother was finally there when she needed her most. She held her tight, the hammer dropping to the ground at some point. Alice just stood there and comforted her for a few minutes before she took them back to the station wagon. Alice made Betty get in the passenger side and threw the hammer in the trunk before she drove them home. 

**\---**

Alice had ushered Betty back to her room, urging her to get comfortable while she left her alone. Alice came back later with a cup of chamomile tea and tucked Betty in her bed, telling her to let her know if she needed anything. Betty only nodded. She hadn’t said anything since her mother had found her. About an hour later, there was a knock on Betty’s door (that she knew her mother had left open). She turned over in her bed to see none other than her boyfriend, still in his prep school uniform. She resented his presence only for a moment until she realized why he was there. 

“You didn’t have to come.” He started walking towards her. 

“Yes,” he replied. “I did.” She watched him walk all the way over to her and she turned back on her side when she realized he was going to be there whether she liked it or not. She felt him wrap his arms around her, spooning her from behind and hugging the covers around her even closer. His head rested against hers, their cheeks flush as Betty tried to bury herself in her pillow. She was ashamed of what she’d done. 

He told her that her mother had called him an hour ago, telling him everything. He apologized for not being there when she needed him most. Just that was almost enough to bring her to tears again, but he kept going. 

“I love you,” Jughead whispered. “I really hate when we fight.” 

She hated it too. She hated being mad at him. She hated being away from him. She hated tension between them. She just wished she could have him all to herself again. She wished he could come home and sleep with her every night, his arms wrapped tight around her, tethering her to reality and warding away her anxieties and fears. 

“You deserve Yale, Jug,” she replied softly, rolling onto her back in his arms. She looked up at him, knowing that sadness was filling her eyes. Suddenly, she couldn’t look at him anymore and let the side of her face fall back on her pillow. “And I’m so happy for you. It’s just hard for me to untangle that from how sad I am that I won’t be going.” 

“It’s not fair,” he said over her shoulder, pulling her back so he could look at her again. She knew he liked to look at her. “I’ve been thinking… Stonewall got me into Yale, but what if I could pay it forward, helping you win?”

“You mean the quiz show?” 

“No, you’ve got that in the bag.” Jughead smiled at his confidence. He always had faith in her. It was very endearing of him. “I’m talking about the other, bigger game that we’re playing.” 

His face was so close to hers now and she could see the silver flecks in his blue eyes just before he leaned down to kiss her on the lips sweetly. When he pulled away, she couldn’t help but smile at him. It was amazing how he could make her anger dissipate so quickly. And he was so good at coaxing the truth out. When he kept eye contact, she knew what it meant - he wanted to know what happened, what she was thinking. 

Betty sniffled and allowed herself to cry again. Jughead wiped her tears away, ready to listen. 

“I was just so angry,” she told him softly. “Mostly at my dad, everything he did. He killed Midge - one of my friends - and tried to kill Mr. Andrews, and so many others… and then he tried to kill me too and my mom. And then the news came out to the entire town and people I didn’t know started avoiding me like I was the one that did those things and he claimed to do them for me, but I didn’t want that. I thought he was gone, Jug, I thought it was over when we put him in the ground but—“ 

“Shh,” he whispered. He always managed to calm her when she rambled. “You have every right to be angry with him.” He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. 

Betty didn’t talk about her father a lot - or at all - most days. She kept it bottled up, just like everything else. She only talked to Jughead about it when she did decide to talk. She rarely even approached her mom about it. 

“I just hate that he’s still fucking with me, even beyond the grave,” she whispered tearfully. “The only reason I didn’t get into Yale is because of who my father is and what he did. They’re concerned it would cause trouble with other students, but you and I know damn well that I wouldn’t poke the bear unless it poked me first.” 

“And then the bear would very much regret that decision,” he said. Betty nodded. “I know.” 

“I just wish… that speech I gave for the town’s 75th birthday—“ 

“No, don’t you go there,” Jughead stopped her. “You were right about that speech in sophomore year. It reinforced everything I knew about you and made me realize just how much I loved you. You had no idea how it was going to affect everyone, and I know you would have avoided saying that particular phrase if you’d known what it would cause. I know you didn’t want any of what your father did, Betty. I think we all know that.” 

Betty nodded, tears running down her face. 

“I swear to you on my life that I’ll make sure we go to Yale together,” he told her. “You never gave up on me, and it’s my turn to never give up on you, okay?” 

“Okay,” she said so softly that her voice cracked. “But no more hiding things from me, please.” 

“I promise.” 

Jughead slid his arms under her back and lowered himself on top of her, hugging her and holding her close as a few silent sobs left her body. 

Betty fell asleep with her face buried in Jughead’s neck. Her arms interlocked around his back, making sure he didn’t leave. She needed him there the entire night. She needed him there to make sure she would be okay. 

She just wanted to feel okay. She wanted to stay like that forever - tucked securely in Jughead’s arms.


End file.
